Esme Kettle spent most of her penultimate holiday week in a stationery shop in the lead up to her NQT year - three years later there's not a planner in sight. Photograph: www.alamy.com

In my first year of teaching you couldn't get me out of Paperchase and WH Smith during the penultimate holiday week. I had a notebook for everything, a personal and a school planner as well as every type of writing implement they offered. I even made my own planner with inspirational quotes when I couldn't find a school one that I liked.

By the end of my NQT year I discovered, to the relief of my bank manager, that stationery made little or no impact on my ability to plan or be organised. So, being an adaptable soul, I turned my attention to shopping for dressing the part in the final week. I was my own Trinny/Gok and spent hours putting together the ultimate in 'take me seriously but see that I'm a human really' outfits. My favourite was my Friday dress which allowed me to go straight from school to any social engagement that I might have the energy for.

The third year was different from the start. I already knew from September that I wanted to move schools but it took until the Easter break to find the right one. It also was to be my first promotion but, as it coincided with a house move, I was unable to shop for organisational or sartorial defenses.

I was on my own. I hit the ground running. I planned, implemented and reflected from dawn to dusk but still felt massively ineffective and, for the most part, like I was missing the point.

An idea took root: "maybe this isn't the job for me?"

By the summer break, I was ready to fold but instead I elected to work for a week and then not think about school again until the last week of the holiday, that way I would catch up on what I needed to do, get ahead but be well rested. Perfect right?

Of course, that isn't what happened. I am yet to even log in to my school email. Instead, I've been evaluating why I feel the way I do and trying to plan for what I want to do about it.

Needless to say, I have not set foot in Paperchase nor a single high street clothing chain.

So what happened? Why has it taken three short years to turn me from someone who genuinely loved this job to someone who is ready to throw the towel in?

Was it the move? Partially. I would advise anyone considering a move at Easter, not to do what I did. Wait. Be new in September with all the support that goes with it. That said, you have to fly the NQT nest at some point and I couldn't have asked for a better move.

Was it the promotion? While I'll always miss the freedom that goes with being nowhere near where the buck stops, I was ready. If anything, the promotion gave me more time to do the part of the job I love the most; teaching.

What is it then?

I think I just want something else.Something that doesn't take up every moment of every hour of every day.Something that doesn't make me feel like my best isn't good enough.Something that works for everyone involved.And maybe that just isn't teaching?Or maybe this is just an extreme case of the post-holiday blues?

I do know one thing for sure though, this job isn't going to get any easier – for anyone.We have an education secretary Gove who doesn't understand the way hereditary policies work, a workforce that is under pressure and scared and a population who don't really know why it's not working but have their fingers pointed at teachers all the same.

Maybe some of us have had enough of all that.

Esme Kettle (a pseudonym) teaches humanities in a secondary school in London. She blogs at Those that can.